Ice, Fire and Demon Slayers
by Kinoha
Summary: AU. A mysterious person saves Bulma from a Hellhound and reveals her true self she does everything to escape destiny! Too bad her powers disagree with that and thus Goku and Vegeta are in for even more trouble as ChiChi enters the picture... Demons beware
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Here I go again, starting another story when I have gazillion of them to finish... hehe! But I couldn't resist and help myself, bwaah! But, I hope you enjoy this! Gonna be another slow story of mine... and not definitely your average fic, I promise!

**Disclaimer:** I only own my car! Not DBZ or the possible hints to DMC series.

**Pairings: **G/CC, BV (don't let the beginning to fool ya!)

**Genres:** Mainly Action, Romance, Humour and Supernatural with hints of Fantasy and Drama

**Full Summary:** AU. Mysterious powers are at work and Bulma discovers her true self as a lone figure saves her from a Hellhound in the slums... too bad Bulma's gonna do everything to fight her destiny as soon as her new powers are under control! Vegeta and Goku are in for the challenge of their lives as ChiChi also proves to be more than meets the eye... Highschool/Demonslaying fic. GCC, BV.

**Ice, Fire and Demon Slayers**

by **Kinoha**

**Prologue: As We Live Now**

A shoulder bumped into him purposefully making him wince at the hard contact and he sighed deeply as he knew what that meant. In the very same moment he was grabbed by his shoulders and slammed against the gray lockers painfully, the back of his head hitting the thin metal. Five tall and muscular guys surrounded him with sneers upon their handsome faces, dressed in football team's jackets.

" Well well, isn't it Son Goku... late again?" one of them drawled lazily and Goku narrowed his black eyes on this particular jock. The hallway was empty as the bell had already rung and the deans had obviously decided to take a coffee break since they were not in sight. Goku frowned at the group, his black eyes narrowing considerably.

" Whatta hell do ya want, Yamcha?" he asked sourly, struggling in their grip for the show of it but they didn't even budge. The young man was already having a bad day then Yamcha the Asshole just had to pick on him for the umpteenth time.

" Don't you dare to talk to _him_ like that, you filth!" Yamcha's friend yelled enraged and punched him straight to the cheek. Goku's head flew to the side, slamming to the locker. Blood began trickling from the corner of his mouth and his both cheeks were stinging in horrible pain. Another gush of blood suddenly came from his jostled nose. His face twisted in pain but he gave his tormentors no satisfaction by screaming or yelling in pain of it.

The group snorted as one and Yamcha brushed his black and shiny hair out of his eyes, his handsome face contorting in grinning contempt.

" Let's just leave the loser. He's beyond low on our scale and he should be grateful we even pay attention to him," he said callously, grabbing Goku's chin cruelly and forced the smaller boy look at him. Goku growled at the bigger boy defiantly, not saying anything.

" Not gonna talk, trash, huh?" With that Yamcha headbutted him in middle of his forehead and the minions holding him let him go. In extreme pain and his vision swimming with white and black dots, Goku crumbled on the floor, feeling sticky and warm substance trickling down his face. He already could feel the painful headache beginning to surface. Just another fucking great day...

Yamcha and his lackeys left with roar of laughter, their sneaker sounding on the linoleum floor of the empty hallway, heading to their lessons fifteen minutes late as usual. But they were all on the football team and their degrees at least B in every subject so the teachers and the school staff let it slide. They did their job at keeping up the school's football team's reputation so why not cut them some slack?

Goku sat slumped against the lockers, knowing some of them were now dented. His head smarted and his vision was hazy from the blow to the head. He tried to get up but wave of nausea and pain kept him down. Fucking great! Unlike the jocks' marks his own weren't that great and teachers were always on his case about them and the fact he was always late didn't help the matter.

" Oh fuck this smarts like hell..." he muttered, wiping his lips and nose on the back of his hand. He wore a simple dark red jacket and a white wife beater underneath and loose fitting black trousers with many pockets. On his feet he sported worn black sneakers which he always had on. His clothes had seen better days and were little shabby all over and Goku knew the white of his shirt was now brown-red from the drying blood.

Getting up and leaning to the row of lockers he staggered towards the way the nurses office was. And he was gonna miss the first hour again. But like he could help it: he'd rather not make a scene by appearing in the classroom bloody and beat up. This way there would be no questions asked and there would be no revenge if he were to spill who did it and why. He wasn't that ignorant.

Son Goku was by no means a tall guy: he stood at barely 5.6 feet and many girls in the school were few inches or much taller than he, mainly the cheerleaders with their model's heights and bodies. His hair was black and spiked into every direction, unruly at the best. His built was quite gangly and lean, the loose fitting clothes pretty much hiding his sinewy body and his face was quite handsome with deepest coal black eyes. It other circumstances he could have been popular with jock and preps, but Goku reflected that it didn't matter. He was from the north side of the city where people lived in slums, drugs and other narcotics were a huge problem and crime rates were the highest. Goku couldn't see the problem in that: he didn't do drugs, smoke or commit crimes, yet he was judged because of his living area. They didn't know him and the fact he had no friends at school didn't bother him. He had plenty of those around the city, thank you.

In all honesty he thanked God that he never turned out to be a jock blind with prejudice and his own importance, picking on other students just for the sake of it.

" Oh my God, Goku!" The nurse cried out as he wobbled inside her office, all bloody and bruises covering his face. He really was a regular customer at Mrs. Connely's nursing office. For a nurse she was every man's dream caretaker: she had wavy blond hair, deep brown eyes and the body to kill for in her white outfit. She may have looked like bar whore at your local pub but in reality she was very kind and caring person. At the age of 25 she had completed her degree in university, gotten married to a wonderful man and landed a job on her first try.

Goku had learnt this all during his visits on her office as she patched him up from beatings; besides they knew each other through Goku's grandfather Son Gohan. Many malign rumours said that she had taken the job because she loved younger male flesh and her husband couldn't get her done properly. Pretty much every guy in the school had tried getting into her pants, but her brisk way dealing with them definitely deflated any growing erections and lusts.

" Hi, Brin... fancy to see you..." Goku laughed weakly and sat on the chair as the blond bombshell flew to check his wounds.

" Yamcha and the goons again?" she asked softy, knowing the answer immediately as Goku gave a small, bitter laugh.

" Who else?"

Mrs. Brin Connely just muttered few curse words under her breath and began wiping the blood away from his face and preparing the disinfectant. She had tried to inform the principal of the football team's stars' doings but the balding, fat prick had just yelled at her that just because some rumours about her sleeping with students were flying around didn't mean she could vilify his outstanding students. She was a nurse meant to take care of students if something happened, not concern herself with school counselor's affairs. They had not discussed about the subject again to her utter displeasure.

Goku just chuckled good-naturedly. " You know, oww, I should thank'em 'cause I'm in the damned first name basis with on of the, outch, school's sexiest women!"

" Behave young man," she slapped his arm playfully while cleaning the gash on his forehead, smiling.

" Ooh, dominating and rough, you naughty woman!" he laughed huskily and Brin let out a giggle and felt few tremors of pleasure run through her spine caused by his sexy voice. Sometimes she just wondered how on Earth it was possible for him to be a single and loathed by girls when he was so attracting. She definitely loved her own husband and he was big and muscular man, working as a bouncer at a night club and he had same kind of rough allure as the sixteen year old boy in her chair being fixed after a beating had.

" Keeps my hubby happy, eh?" she smirked back. " Now take off your shirt. I need to see if any damage was done to your back and ribs. Oh, and before I forget: give your grandfather my greetings! Tell him I'll race for him sometimes if needed!" she grinned like a chesire cat.

Goku obliged without complaint and smirked at her. He knew he was good at hiding his pain and usually tended to underestimate his wounds and damage taken from beatings. He sighed. Another lesson missed; another teacher all the more mad at him.

" I'll tell 'im, Brin. I'll them 'im. Just patch me up, ok?"

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He left the nurse's office and joined the student body now milling in the hallways of the school. No one paid particular attention to him but the bruises on his face were noted by many. The clock on the wall showed 9: 47 and Goku frowned. Great. Ten minutes until next lesson and he had to get to his locker, get his books, avoid jocks and get to the class. He scoffed when he slammed his locker shut his books in his hands and glared at people looking at him with curiosity. It was not uncommon knowledge that he lived in the north area. Big deal. Many others lived there too, but they were punks and emos and no one dared to mess with them since knives were really close to their hands at all times. Just what the jocks didn't know was that he also had his trusted switchblade and he definitely knew how to use it but he had decided not to use it on idiots.

He navigated agilely through the throng and remained unspotted by the jocks who sat on their usual bench with giggling cheerleaders in their laps, snogging and being envied by other less fortunate students. _More like less unfortunate students_ he smirked in his mind. He sure wouldn't want any of such whores in his lap. God knows where their mouths had been and what had been in them.

Slipping inside the class he sat at the very side closest to windows, the openings giving a scenery to the football field from the second floor. He absentmindedly leafed through his history book and could care less what had happened in the past. It was nearly ten and a group of jocks and preps walked inside with bragging giggles and Goku held back his snort.

A blue-haired, extremely beautiful girl was in middle of all attention, dressed in low-cut tight jeans with glitter and a minimal tank top you could find, exposing the top of her breasts and her toned midriff. Bulma Briefs was her name: the richest, most popular and superficial bitch on the face of the Earth and currently she held the 'hardest bitchslap' title of the school's girls. Many molesters had felt the power of Briefs' hand if they got too friendly with her without her consent. She giggled lightly at something her friend said, sounding so superficial Goku almost puked. He strained his hearing to listen to their conversation.

" Oh gosh Bulma, that's like so awesome! I can't believe Yamcha would do like that!" her brunette friend squealed and Bulma only chuckled in response.

" Yeah... too bad he can't have the same class with me! I miss my boyfriend so!" she sighed dramatically, flipping her hair.

" Oh Bulma-chan! You're so lucky girl!"

" I like just love your jeans!"

" Gosh I wish I like had your body..."

Goku listened to all this, feeling amused. He wondered if the blue bitch knew her so-called friends were her friends only because she had money and fame and could probably pull few string for them if needed. At the moment the teacher walked into the class. Graying old man, almost as old as history itself slammed his books on the table. He had obviously gone to get some coffee from the teacher's lounge. The roll call was done as usual.

He then started the lessons with dry voice that seemed to drone on and on and Goku found himself nodding partially off.

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Bulma was definitely bored out of her mind. She absently kept biting the end of her pen, her glossed lips forming a pout of boredom. Mr. Mori didn't tolerate even a whisper in his lessons and he had been known to fail a student just for sneezing in middle of his important preach on the ancient history of Egypt. She couldn't even pass notes to her friends a she had forgotten her notebook... Besides she was way too smart for this lessons anyways.

The blue-haired beauty began scanning the students in the class, trying to recognize nobodies and if she perhaps by some chance remembered their names connect them together. That mousy girl was Veronica... or was she Yukio? That nerdy guy with TV glasses... oh wait. No one seemed to know his real name and everybody called him 'TV-glasses'.

_Wait, who on Earth is that?_ Bulma bit her lip in confusion as her azure eyes settled on the boy with incredibly spiky, black hair sitting on her row to the left on the last seat. His face was bruised and his forehead had a band aid in middle, slightly slanted. He obviously got into fights a lot. She'd have to ask Yamcha about that one: he was usually well-informed on almost anybody.

The boy turned his head and caught her looking. Instead of shying away from her superior and mighty cheerleader's gaze he answered it fully on. His black gaze was mischievously dark and he smirked at her audaciously. Bulma raised a delicate eyebrow in surprise and then had to cover her gasp as the wild-haired male gave her a finger. No one else noticed as they were so deep in stupor of utter boredom. Bulma stared furiously back at the insolent brat who was now ignoring her completely.

_Asshole!_

But she couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity she got from the boy and she was sure she had never in her life even noted him before or talked to him. Her palms tingled weirdly and she scratched them lightly. _Grr, my skin must be drying..._ _where's my creamy hand lotion when I need it..._

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The last bell rang signaling the end of yet another school day as the clock hit exactly 2:25 pm. Students filed out of the school, chatting and gossiping, happy to end the day and be free again. Goku marched out of the main entrance his back slung casually over his shoulder. Another day in the fuckhole was complete. God thank it was already Thursday. He barely could wait for the weekend. He hoped Vegeta had gotten that engine booster as he had bragged he would.

Quietly he sneaked past the parking lot and smirked as jocks were comparing their cars and showing them off to girls. He walked daily to school even if he owned a car. But there was noway he'd ever bring it to school. Yamcha and his loonies would destroy it faster than he could say eat shit and that beauty certainly wasn't worth of their braindead gazes. Goku heard that git Yamcha talking about his new ride and how he's going to take Bulma for it in the evening. Excitement and speed, he promised her, and he couldn't help but snort. That car had never even seen the meaning of speed and excitement.

Upping his gait to jogging and then to full running he practically flew towards his humble abode and living area. One of main reasons he was so fit was because he ran to school every single day.

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" Grandpa! I'm home! Where are you, old man?" he hollered as he stepped into an open garage. It was large and filled with mechanical equipment of all sort meant for fixing and tuning cars. Three most beautiful cars ever were at the back of the huge room and some incomplete frames where every where. Few old cars on the side were being fixed into better condition and the place smelt like oil and motor grease. Goku's fingers were itching to get to work on some of the vehicles.

" Grandpa?" he asked again. The old man would never leave his prized cars like this on the open so he must be nearby.

" Just righ' about here, boy," came a rough reply and an old man covered with smudges of oil and grease ambled from the side room of his little business. He greeted with a wave of a hand his grandson and then frowned. " Whatta hell happened to yer bloody face?"

" Yam-fucking-cha happened as always," he rolled his eyes irritably, touching his cheeks gently. " Don't worry, old man. Brin patched me up, as always. She sends her greetings and says she'd be happy to race again if needed."

Son Gohan scowled at his lanky teenage relative. " Ya really need to start fightin' back, sonny. You're not a tenth degree black belt for nuthin'... I taught ya all those martial arts and exorcisms, y'know, for the job, not that you could get your sorry ass kicked by lame bloody jocks on steroids!"

" Well, excuse me! I don't fancy being exposed at any way to be a damn demon hunter. I am just maintaining a cover, gramps! It's not like I don't get hurt in the battles already..." Goku retorted sharply with a roll of his eyes. Gohan gave a sigh.

" I know... I know... I'm just worried about ya there."

" Nah, it's okay... I even scare myself there, sometimes!"

" Get going ya git and then get your sorry ass down here to help me!" Son Gohan laughed and ushered the smaller male towards the door leading into their little apartment to change into his working clothes. Screw the homework! He had not done them since the first grade in junior high and wasn't about to start right now. Grabbing a bite, a sandwich and orange juice, he made his way to their small room which contained a closet, a bunk bed and a small night table. His walls were filled with posters of all kind and the floor was stacked with books about cars and mechanics and dirty clothes littered the place. Finding his overalls he quickly changed and went to tinker with the newest car order with his grandfather.

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Heavy metal blasting from the speakers, Goku hummed to the words as he worked under the car, giving some sharp tuning to the exhaust and catalysts. The other would never knew what hit them when his little trick on the car would be ready, he smirked in satisfaction and swiped sweat off his temple, smudging it with dirt. Gohan had gone to take care of some business and left Goku in charge of their 'shop'.

Suddenly someone turned the stereos off. " KAKAROTT! GET YOUR ASS FROM UNDER THOSE CARS RIGHT NOW!" An arrogant voice yelled sounding extremely pissed off. Goku pulled himself from under the car and scrambled to his feet, annoyed.

" Hey, Vegeta! No need to turn the blaster off!" he snorted and Vegeta jumped at his sudden appearance right behind him.

" Oh motherfucker! Don't do that!" he blew his top and grumbled something about bastard mechanics. The man was two years his senior, but soon only one year since Goku's birthday was coming up in few days, momentarily closing their age gap a bit. His hair stood like a flame and was just as black and spiky as his, but adding to his height few inches. Eyes were the same black as his too, though colder and more narrowed. A permanent scowl seemed to be embedded to his handsome features. Many people said the two looked alike but it was rarely known fact that they were actually brothers.

Their father had really abandoned them to their grandfather as babies. Vegeta was a result of a one night stand between Bardock and his high school crush Velega, the elegant matriarch of the Ouji family line, next in importance only to the Briefs in the world. Bardock had been married already as had been Velega and neither one wanted to shame their names and had abandoned Vegeta to Bardock's father Son Gohan. Both of his parents denied his very existence as Velega had been pregnant too long for an abort to be possible and safe for her health so she had carried him in secrecy. Son-Ouji Vegeta was his full name.

Goku had been born to a whore Bardock had managed to impregnate while once again cheating on his wife. The nameless whore had died upon giving birth to him, on very intent of blackmailing money from Bardock with the baby. Not wanting anything to do with the brat he had dropped him off at his father's doorstep in the slums. Son-Saiyajin Goku was his full name. Kakarott was a nickname that Vegeta had started calling him when they were kids and neither knew why or where it had come from. Vegeta was the only one whom he even tolerated calling him that.

Bardock had always despised the way his father lived: poorly and dealing illegal cars and races in the nightly city which were his greatest loves in the world, unknown to Bardock, right after his dear grandsons. He had left the home for boarding school to which he had earned a scholarship with straight As. He wasn't going to end up like his crazy sire and began studying law and graduated later with highest scores ever recorded. After getting out of college and finding a job in respected law firm changing his surname had been easy. Crawford Bardock had become his new name. He didn't want anyone ever finding out about his disgrace of a family in the slums. He had two exceptionally well succeeding sons Raditz and Turles, after all and a wife he tolerated for the most of the time.

Son Gohan hadn't spared the boys from these hard facts and Goku and Vegeta could care less about their real parents: Gohan would be the only family for them since their father had quite willingly got rid of them.

" Do what?" Goku asked, feigning innocence.

" You know, you asshole!" Vegeta rolled his eyes and decided to change the subject. " So how's the Firebird coming along, Kakarott?"

" The won't know what hit them as this beauty's gonna knock'em dead! I think you should check the engine once again and get your lazy ass to help me! She needs to be in condition for the weekend. You got the part you promised?" The younger boy patted the hood of the silver colored car with blue flames surrounding it all over affectionately.

" Sure... hey, what the heck happened to yer mug?!" flame-haired Ouji heir asked, pointing to his face, now noticing the band aid from under his oiled-covered face.

" The jockflock of motherfucking gays happened and Brin fixed everything like always," he answered curtly and Vegeta cracked his knuckles. " Some day I am gonna beat the shit outta those cock-sucking, whore-induced---" his impressive cursing faded into mumbling that promised extreme pain. Goku smiled in spite of himself. All the fighting and insulting they did, they really watched out for each other. Streets had taught them that you'd better have someone cover your back.

" I don't see how ya still keep going to that hellhole," Vegeta snarled, pulling on his overalls from the rack next to the door to their little flat.

" Just for the heck of it. And the cheerleaders' skirts are awesome," Goku leered and Vegeta laughed.

" Hmm... I might consider joining school again," he pondered aloud opening the hood of the car and with practiced eye quickly looked through everything.

" Ya know ya're still on the student list... ya've been away from school only about one and half year. It's still weird that they don't realize us to be brothers. We even fucking look the same and we're registered under the same damned surname!"

" Well, I never did say to the bastard of a school councilor that I quit... I just went on a prolonged Christmas break!"

Goku laughed at the remark, cleaning his tools with a rag. " Yeah sure... I think such an excuse as: 'I'm sorry I skipped school Mr. Principal but I was hunting a high demon lord Azkabal all over the globe and when I finally killed him I jus' kinda forgot to return to school!' is not gonna come through! But let's not talk about the damned fuckhole anymore, but let's turn things up!"

Vegeta roared in laughter at that: quite malicious sounding sound that chilled any demons to the bone and core of their rotting souls. His crazy laughter was almost legendary amongst them.

Goku walked over the stereos, quite used to Vegeta's chilling laughter, and soon heavy metal and rock was blasting thru the speakers, both boys signing to it quite loudly but shockingly in tune and worked their precious car into wonder condition for the weekend.

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A/N: All kind's of feedback welcome!

JA NE!


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I am feeling quite well at the moment so I shall graze you with another chapter immediately! (crickets chirp and Kinoha waits for applause) Damn... but enjoy anyways:)

**Disclaimer:** Look back the previous page...

**Ice, Fire and Demon Slayers**

by **Kinoha**

**Chapter 1 - Power Discovered**

The night was warm and the street lamps dyed everything with yellowish light. A red cars sped the streets with impressive roar and hum of the motor, not caring of the traffic rules in the slightest. It was almost midnight anyways and in those parts of the city not many dared to move outside. More than suspicious things happened in this district, but a logical explanation was never found for them. Strange piles of ash, inexplicable black and red bloodstains that seemed to appear out of nowhere, buildings collapsing for no apparent reason. It was just another slum area, otherwise. The two occupants of the car didn't know any of this and their joy ride in the dangerous streets continued...

" Wow Yamcha! This is so cool!" Bulma giggled as they sped along the dark street, no other people in sight.

" Yeah, a midnight ride in the city slums. I hear that people keep illegal street races here and win huge amounts of money. I bet my car would leave them all biting dust!" Yamcha bragged and leaned his arm against the window.

" Really? Well, they really could use it..." she remarked and flipped her hair as she eyed the shabby blockhouses and dirty streets.

Yamcha was about to nod when out of the blue a figure dressed in rags appeared in the headlights of their car. Yamcha uttered something between surprise and annoyance and hit the brake pedal. Bulma shrieked at the jolt and the red sports car screeched to halt only few inches from the figure which now was revealed to be a wrinkly old man with gray, dirty trench coat and long shredded scarf. His hair was grizzly and unkempt, his eyes red and he stared at the car with wild look to him.

Yamcha opened the door and stepped outside, fuming with anger. " Yamcha? What..." Bulma asked and followed him, feeling little worried. The night air felt suddenly quite chilly and she felt something akin to a fear crawling up her spine. The blue-haired cheerleader hugged herself instinctively, her palms itching furiously. She was only wearing a short miniskirt, sneakers with loose socks and a loose fitting college shirt.

" Hey, old bum! Get out of my way! What in devil's name are you standing in middle of the lane, dammit! You could of scratched the painting of my car in that braking!" her boyfriend demanded pissed off from the old drunkard. The man flinched at the mention of devil and cast them such a serious look with malicious amusement in his bloodshot eyes.

" In devil's name indeed, youngsters..." his voice sounded like he had just recently been raised from the grave, or a had very bad hangover which was more like in his case.

" What?" Bulma asked confused, resisting the urge to relieve the itch in her hands. Yamcha adopted a look of insulted superiority.

" Ya don't know where you stuck yerselves... har har... They're coming, they come every nigh'... it's my cue to leave now... as should you too," the bum cackled and raised his finger up as if feeling the wind while the teenagers stared with wariness at him. He walked away disappearing from the light of the car, into the darkness. Heavy silence descended upon them.

Bulma shivered.

" What was that about? I know this area has a little questionable reputation..." the black-haired high school football star scratched his cheek in wonder.

" What kind of reputation?" Bulma demanded, her crystal blue eyes looking around nervously, her fingers wringing together to soothes the tingling.

" All kind of weird stuff... just urban legends. Let's get back into car and continue maybe to... some more private place," he suggested with a wink and charming smile towards Bulma. She was too distracted to take any notice and only nodded: "Yeah, sure..."

_Oh yes! Yamcha man, you're going get laid tonight!_ he thought with dark glee.

CRASH!

He whipped to see his red and prized car smashed, the roof had almost caved in and the windows were shattered. It was very totaled. " Oh my fucking god! My car! Who the hell...!!" he bellowed in shock, only being able to stare in shock.

" Uh... Yamcha..." Bulma piped meekly.

" God, I can't believe someone had the gall to touch my car---" He was pulling his hair in anger.

" Yamcha... on the roof..." she repeated, slowly backing away.

" ---when I get my hands on the sorry dude who did this I'll---"

" ABOVE ON THE DAMNED ROOF!" She lost her cool and hollered almost into his ear in fright. An ominous growl sounded and Yacmha looked up and blanched dozen shades. On the smashed roof stood a being with glowing red eyes and apparently leathery wings on its back. It looked like a cross between a rabid dog and human being. It watched them with cool hunger and joy, looking quite ready to pounce put into good use its mawful of sharp teeth.

" Oh dear..." Yamcha croaked out and fainted dead on the spot.

" Yamcha! How dare you!" Bulma shrieked indignantly at her unconscious boyfriend, feeling pretty betrayed about him weaseling his way out like that. A souls-shaking roar split the air and Bulma managed to see the demonic creature lunge at her, teeth glinting. Mewling in fright she jumped to side, the humongous body flying past her by centimeters. She stumbled back, falling on her ass onto the asphalt, staring with panic. The monster skidded to halt and turned around to face her, intent clear in its movements.

" Yamcha..." she whispered desperately, backing away slowly like a crab. The boy stayed immobile and unresponsive in front of the car.

_Ah, to hell with it!_ She decided and got to her feet and swiveled around. The great canine thing from hell leaped after her immediately. The CC heiress began running away for all she was worth, fear and adrenaline giving her boost and speed she didn't even know a human being could run. The road beneath her shook with every thunderous step the monster took, making her stumble all the time. Her hands burned like they were on fire, so hot it almost felt freezing.

" HEELP!"

Bulma's desperate plea rang in the air. The blue-haired teenager could feel the repugnant breathing of the dog-thing in her neck, tears stinging in her eyes. She was going get eaten by a monster! Her foot slipped on the pavement and crashed on the tarmac, rolling few times around because of her momentum and speed. Her knees and elbows stung with pain from the fall and she was sure they were bleeding.

" Shit!" she cursed and turned around to see the being leaping at her, maw open to tear into her tender flesh. Eyes widening in fear of death, she closed her eyes tightly but the painful teeth never connected. A sharp-pitched howl like a wounded hound sounded and Bulma opened her eyes just in time to see the huge carcass flying in the air and land on the ground with a painful thud.

" Huh?" she spluttered, blinking.

" Ya know... Bulma Briefs, it's dangerous to get bitten by a rabid dog..." someone said and Bulma's head whirled to see a boy about her age standing little away from her, eyes trained on the monster which was currently getting up, casually leaning his weight on his left leg. She could have sworn she knew him, the same feeling of familiarity washing over as earlier in day at school. The male was dressed in combat boots, dark trousers and had a trench coat on. His face was just beyond the reach of the streetlight.

" What?" she asked, it being her only coherent thought at the moment. He knew her name...?

" Just stay there and lemme handle this... A Hellhound is a bit over your bitchslapping abilities, anyways," the boy retorted with amusement and she could feel his eyes were now fixed on her, pulled out a silvery pistol from the recesses of his coat without looking and nailed the best in middle of the forehead as it was pouncing on them once again. The creature called Hellhound let out a terrible whine and exploded into ashes, moist with blood.

Bulma gaped.

" They usually calm down after receiving a bullet to the head though!" the male sounded quite cheerful with his explanation, the gun in his hand gleaming almost magically. Bulma frowned thoughtfully at him. He was familiar, he knew of her title as bitchslapping queen...

" What the heck is going on?" she inquired lowly, her voice even like people's who are about to blow their top.

" Ya got attacked by a weak-classed demon, Hellhound."

" LIKE THAT EXPLAINS ANYTHING, DAMMIT!"

" Sure does to me."

" Argh! I can't believe I'm arguing with my saviour like this!"

" Me neither. For someone whose life I just saved you're acting quite bitchy to me." The boy suddenly came to light and knelt next to her, smiling little ironically. Bulma's face dropped from annoyed to a shocked one and she seemed to be stammering something. The same face with same bruises stared at her face, literally.

" Now ya could say a big 'thank you' with my name attached to it, hmh?"

" You're the boy from the class today! No wonder you know me," she exclaimed, " Yamcha says your name is Son Goku!"

" Well, he's correct about that..." Goku jeered, " And before you ask: yes I slay such things as that for my job outside the school."

" I... well, things like that exist?" she pushed the subject feeling abashed, her hands once again only tingling and she rubbed them absently. Goku ignored the question and noted she wrung her hands, like they were in pain. Her palms were little scratched from her fall and her knees were skinned and bleeding, blood already crusting.

" Your hands itch?" he questioned, brows slanting. Bulma didn't know what her drying skin had anything to do but opted to answer him.

" Yeah, they started itching when I saw you in class... and when we stopped our car because of some old weirdo... and now they itch like hell, but nothing like they did only few moments earlier." She inspected her hands. Goku stayed quiet, his expression painfully twisted into disbelief. " Besides, I could swear I know you from somewhere... you're familiar but not in a way normal way. I'm pretty sure this is the first day I learn you even exist in our school..." Bulma rambled on and caught Goku's deadpan expression.

" Oh fucking hell..." the boy muttered, looking up with blaming eyes. " I swear God hates me..."

" What!" Bulma spat, her temper firing up. What did she do to him, ever?

Goku wordlessly grabbed her hand and turned her palm upward. Swiftly placing his own hand on hers he closed his eyes for a seconds before smirking at her upset and flabbergasted face. Bulma gulped at the fierceness of his black eyes. He could practically feel the current of ethereal power coursing in her veins.

" Hideo chikara, kuru yo!" he murmured clearly and Bulma felt a sucking sensation in her palm. She tried to yank her hand away but he held fast. A gentle, blue light began seeping out from between their hands and Bulma inhaled sharply at the minor pain pulsing in the appendage. Like something pulled to the surface form the core of her soul and it had to be forced through all the layers in her body, physical and mental alike. Goku took his hand away and Bulma snatched her hand to herself, glaring little scared.

" Whatta hell?" she accused and the spiky-haired boy rolled his eyes at her dramatics.

" Just look at your palm," he advised.

Bulma opened the fist she had formed in fright and gasped. Her palm was covered in frost, glittering and fuming in the warmer air. A steady piece of solid ice sat in middle of her palm, non-melting and she didn't feel the cold at all. Like holding an ice cube without feeling the cold and melting it with your skin heat. She stared at it speechlessly.

" What is this! Just what's going on...?" she almost sobbed, the events of the night sinking in with full force. She had almost been eaten by some Hellhound creature, saved by a no-name fellow high schooler and now her hand was almost covered in ice. Goku frowned and awkwardly patted her shaking shoulder.

" As much as I'd like to leave the bloody information undivulged I have to tell ya but now is not the time. I'll see ya after school under the bleachers," he more ordered than said and got up. Bulma looked at him with teary and angry eyes.

" Like I would show up to meet a freak like you!" she screamed at him and Goku only smiled, almost callously, at her.

" By the end of the day, ya can't wait to see me," the teenager slayer chuckled and jumped over the streetlight and from there to nearby roof leaving shocked Bulma eyeballing after him in silence. She definitely had a lot to think about as the tingling in her hands had gone away. With furious shaking of her hand she managed to dislodge the ice of it. Muttering unlady-like words under her breath she stomped to where Yamcha's car stood, lights illuminating the road brightly.

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" Damn damn damn damn and damn!" Goku cursed and slammed the door to their flat shut with extra force, making Vegeta and their grandfather, who were drinking coffee around the kitchen table, jump and nearly spill their drinks. He took a chair, spun it around expertly and plopped down. For few seconds he stared forward and then banged his head on the wooden table.

" Damn! Ow!" He had totally forgotten that his forehead was busted. " Jus' once more: damnit!"

" Kakarott, whatta hell are you on, man?" Vegeta asked with raised eyebrow as Son Gohan only sipped the black liquid with calm composure. Let the boys talk and handle it; he didn't need to interfere with their demon hunting job anymore.

Goku raised his head, his expression bleary. " Guess what? I saved a damned girl from a Hellhound, she's a bitchy cheerleader wench from school and ya know what? She has a gift! A fucking gift of ice itself and above that her reincarnated soul remembers bits of her past live where she obviously knew me! That wasn't a coincidence: she's the one we need to take care of the big-ass demons! The fucking special one... and I strongly dislike her superficial preppy being!! I can't stand her like that!"

The younger brother inhaled and exhaled deeply, looking like broken man. Vegeta and Gohan stared, looking quite alerted.

" A what?" they said in unison and Goku sighed exasperatedly.

" Do I need to repeat my bloody self?!" he snapped at his family heatedly.

" Sonny, ya're taking this a wee bit seriously... a girl is jus' what this demon slaying group needs. This is good news!" Grandfather remarked, sounding happy but Vegeta scoffed at his old sire.

" Gramps, she's not gonna be your cruddy eye candy but a precious asset to us in our fight!"

Goku shook his head.

" Uhm... Vegeta, you haven't seen her..."

" She can't be that good lookin' a wench. When I was chasing the accursed Azkabal around the fucking globe I met this really pretty whore and---"

" Oh believe me, bro, she is! She's a case we really can talk about _precious assets_... she's a total whore but the sexiest whore I've ever seen! I wouldn't mind getting into her pants just for once," Goku cut his half-brother off sharply. Getting himself a mug he poured it full of hot coffee and took a content sip of it.

" Whatever, Kakarott... I'll see 'er at school, won't I? I assume you won't be bringin' her here any time soon..." Vegeta waved Goku's claim off nonchalantly.

" School?" Grandpa Gohan raised a bushy eyebrow at his elder grandson, look of surprise taking over his wrinkled features. " Since when ya decided to get back to school?"

" Since today... I've heard cheerleaders' skirts are awesome nowadays at West High."

The trio laughed heartily at that. Talking a bit more of Goku's patrol in the slums and around the city they decided to call it a night. The clock was nearly 1:00 am and Goku had a school in the morning, after all.

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The bell rang it's annoyingly sweet melody that signaled the end of yet another day: Friday, the beginning of sweet weekend. Bulma Briefs had sat ready to sprint out of the class the minute the clock hit 2:25 pm since 11 am! She had been extremely irritated the whole day and in her friends' eyes her act was just plain weird. They all branded her as sick since her hands were occasionally ice cold and her eyes frostier than northern tundra. God only knew what kind of cold she had come down with...

And she hadn't seen the spiky-haired boy for the whole day and thus couldn't sick her league on him as revenge.

The blue-haired queen practically dashed out of the class, leaving her group behind and not even sparing them a look the second they were free. At the door she even elbowed one jock out of her way so the dude actually fell down on the floor, holding his side in shock and pain. Everybody, including the teacher, watched dumbfounded her grand departure. Bulma ran down the hallway, screeched into halt in front of her locker, forced the door open, gathered her things in ten seconds and was gone again, leaving the mingling student body staring in wonder.

Bulma just hated the fact that the boy had been right! In the morning she had sworn to herself not to go but the meeting was seemingly inevitable. Some insurmountable problems had risen, you see. That cocky brat was gonna get it when she got her hands on him...! Things had definitely gone down hill today with everything and everyone.

At the moment she also could care less what everybody thought of her. Let the rumors fly for she had bigger problems than that in her dainty hands!

She reached the bleachers out of breath and pissed off but she jogged the last yards with sheer will power. Bulma gripped the strap of her backpack tightly as she saw Son Goku's figure casually leaning on a beam supporting the structure above them and couldn't contain herself anymore.

" YOU! SON GOKU!"

The male only smirked as a greeting. " I told ya..." he declared in a sing-song voice and Bulma huffed indignantly.

" You better start explaining now! What did you do to me!? You have made my life living, flaming hell! No, scratch that: living, freezing hell!" she spat poisonously at him and glaring with the might of her blue eyes. Goku actually could feel the coldness radiating off of her and a chill ran down his spine.

" I suggest we sit down. It's gonna take a while..." he suggested calmly and sat down, his legs crossed. Bulma followed his example hesitantly and sat neatly on the ground, looking over her shoulders with paranoia.

" You sure no one will see me here with you? I wouldn't want to be associated with a loser..." she quipped nastily and Goku shrugged the insult off. He knew who really was the master and the winner of his situation and so did she, but he'd give her some credit for valiant effort.

" Ya remember the last night?" he started.

" How could I forget, damnit! A giant demonic dog almost ate me and I am supposed to just forget it like that? Not to mention this!" she showed her palm to him and frosty icy began forming there in middle. " All I can do is try not to touch anything longer than necessary. What did you do?!" Bulma glowered dangerously at him, not happy with the situation she was in.

" This morning I could only take a damn cold shower for the water no matter what I did warmed up. I almost gave frostbites to my boyfriend while hugging and kissing him, froze my locker's lock, almost frosted over my friend's clothes, broke dozens of pens cuz they froze solid and at lunch the water froze into my glass and it was damn hard to hide that from everyone, lest drink it!" she quickly accounted him into her hellish day.

" That wasn't even half of it, you nitwit, know that! You know how much convincing I had to do so Yamcha believed that it was only stray rabid dog and not a hellspawn at previous night!" the bluenette finished sourly at his amused expression.

" It's just yer natural gift, or more like power of ice, leaking out of ya because you don't have a control over it yet. I just awakened it. It's the cause of the itch and burning in your hands. Your hands haven't tingled anymore, have they?" Goku explained to her. Bulma stared at the wild-haired boy blankly, many curse words fighting battle in tip of her tongue.

" Let me get this straight: I could have lived my life without any 'ice powers' if you hadn't awakened them!" the cheerleader girl almost shrieked the last words at his face. Goku ignored her little out burst since arguing wasn't going to get him anywhere just now.

" Actually no. Eventually ya would've died 'cause your system wouldn't be able to handle the strain the force of it being suppressed. In about ten years, I'd say, ya'd have been dead as a roadkill. One to two people die in a year because of suppressed magical powers n' stuff. No medical explanation is found for that. They just drop dead: bang and that's it or demons find them and rip them apart since magical people are way more tastier."

That silenced her effectively and he continued.

" Your powers, ya could call it magic if you want 'cause it's the same thing anyways, " Bulma gasped at this loudly, " the main factor is that your power reacts to demons and their presence and the reasons why your hands tingled at my proximity is 'cause I've been in presence of demons a lot. Bulma, your power is meant to vanquish demons and it instinctively wants to fight the evilness and fire in them."

" Demons? Magic? Fight them? And did I give you the permission to use my name?" The CC heiress regarded Goku with a look of incredulity. " You mean, I'd need to start fighting them? With you? Just because I have some 'vanquishing powers'? Ha! Fat chance, buddy! I'm out of here!" she rose up and dusted her skirt. " Thanks for the Q&A session but---"

"Jus' hear me out, bitch!" Goku growled and yanked her down again. He was really starting to loose his temper with this ungrateful wench.

" Excuse me?" Bulma ground out. First he dares to give her a finger and now plain insult her! Didn't he know who she was?

" Shut up! Ya're right about the fighting part, but above all ya need to learn control. Ya wanna wake up one day and suddenly freeze your daddy to death? Or may be your precious Yam-fucking-cha?" he snarled at her mockingly and watched her paling at the thought. She really hadn't thought about it like that yet.

" Maybe I'll just freeze your butt to death then," she threatened and Goku only smirked confidently at her gall.

" Ya can try, gal, but at the moment I know more 'bout your powers and workings of them than you."

Bulma only eyeballed him. Was there anything that could phase or win over one on this guy? _Probably not, since the loser_ _kills demons from the deepest pits of Hell as a hobby in middle of the night._ Oddly enough she was beginning to feel quite calm and collected about everything she had learned of demons and her freezing 'gift'.

" Wait... you have some weird magic power too?" The thought struck her and she couldn't help blabbing it to him, eyes going wide she wondered if he could scorch her up in flames or something like that.

" No, Demon slaying is just Son family business... has been for generations. My fucking f_ather's_ the only exception," Goku spat the word father with such loath that Bulma cringed. She eyed the healing bruises and split lip on his face sceptically. She'd too hate her father if she was subjected to beatings like that. Goku meaningfully glared at her and she stopped her survey on his features, mouthing apology.

" But how you were able to jump like that then?" she returned to the subject, sensing she would be threading dangerous water with the question about this intriguing piece of information of his father. Abused children tended to get violent about it.

Goku smiled almost fondly and another feeling of I-know-him washed over her. " Just training... nothing else. It's all about channeling your energy right." He smiled cryptically, leaving her staring at him with her crystal blue eyes lost once again.

" Y'know, ya are taking this quite well for an airy prep wench..."

Bulma cast him a resenting look and stood on her legs, glaring down at him. " So, can I go now, mister demon slayer?"

" Be my damn guest... but first few advice: one, avoid touching anything for few days, includes your hippy player man. I think he won't thank ya if ya froze his balls into fucking ice cubes..." Goku laughed at the thought, chortling into his hands evilly as Bulma looked scandalized, disgusted and blushing at the same time at the comment.

" Sunday is the day we can start teachin' ya to harness your powers so be here at 9:00 am..." Seeing her stubborn look Goku continued, " You do want to learn how not to freeze anyone to death, you know... it's for your own best, so keep it cool."

" Oh fine..." she flipped her hair arrogantly, telling him with her body language that she was only doing this because it would help her fix her little freezing problems. " 9:00 am it is then." she slowly nodded, not liking this in the least.

" And about the familiarity issue ya've had lately... Ya have never noticed my existence before but I seems familiar to you cuz your reincarnated soul remembers me from yer past life. Obviously we knew each other back then also. Sometimes if a person is really good and did remarkable things one's soul can be reincarnated to his former family or friends in new life and maybe even dimension. Maybe this is just a coincidence, but still..."

The blue-haired cheerleader's eyes were wide once again.

" You know lots about things going on in Heaven and Hell..." she stated, as if seeing the boy in front of her for the first time.

Goku shrugged nonchalantly, looking up at her smirking, " Comes with the job, y'know...I know lotsa things but I didn't know you wore pink panties."

Bulma shrieked and jumped backwards. " You perv! You were looking up my skirt!" she yelled furiously, fists frosting over with the emotion.

" Dunt blame me for being a guy... Ya were the one to offer the view..."

" YOU'RE STILL A PERV! BYE SON-KUN AND I HOPE SUNDAY NEVER COMES!" She swung her back at him meaning to smack some sense into his head but missed as he dodged. Huffing purposefully she began striding away from him. Her world had gone upside down in less than 24 hours and she really blamed Yamcha for that. He and his idiotic joy ride...

" Son-kun?" he questioned the empty air and decided it had gone rather well. He really had thought he would have to go to her house and drag her ass kicking and screaming in here. Guess it was just a good her past life interfered with her present life... Bulma Briefs was known to be quite money spender with no talent at all for inventing things like his father did. She really was no good for the company or the world in general. In Goku's opinion this was vast improvement; at least now she could help them get the world rid of the demons and evil.

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**A/N:** Now I need sleep... not even god knows when's my next chance to update a story... JA NE! Feedback is always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Here's the next chappie! This contains some craziness and BV. Enjoy! Thanks for the reviews; I even got few from persons I haven't gotten one in ages! I still remember you guys, thanks!

**Disclaimer: **Ahem...I think the answers no? DING DING! You're correct! Damn...

**Ice, Fire and Demon Slayers**

by **Kinoha**

**Chapter 2 - Training Bulma**

The Sunday rolled around and Bulma Briefs, the blue-haired queen of the West High, was up and about around six thirty in the morning which was highly unusual considering she wouldn't let anyone disturb her slumber before eleven. It took only ten minutes to get to the school from CC complex and Bulma was already wishing the time to go faster, so she could of left already.

She had opted for comfortable tiny shorts and a white tank top for the day and had gathered her hair up into a loose bun. With final roll of her eyes she glanced at the mirror, not feeling the usual satisfaction at her own reflection. Irritated, she brushed the smooth surface with the tips of her fingers and immediately the mirror froze and frosted over.

" Oh great..." she muttered and sighed deeply. The clock was only few minutes more than it had been few minutes ago and Bulma was ready to scream in frustration. Still two more hours to go.

" Hope after this day I won't have to see that filthy riffraff anymore..." the teenager muttered hotly, referring to Son Goku: the obnoxious brat who had ruined her life in matter of minutes. She had had to avoid her friends for the weekend and couldn't go to the party held last night and she was starting to get quite weird looks and questions from her group. Yamcha was even a bit peeved off with her for refusing his advances lately. He thought he had apologized enough for leaving her to that 'rabid dog', as he so sarcastically remarked about the event which had had the star players fainting like sissy girl.

Bulma made a face at that: at the moment she couldn't care less. She had a serious personal problem which needed immediate attention and certainly didn't belong to her friends or Yamcha one damn bit.

Suddenly smelling breakfast in the air she bounded downstairs, grateful for once that her parents were early raisers as her stomach gave a grumble of emptiness.

" Morning daddy, mom!" she chirped with fake cheeriness as she entered the kitchen. Her non-authentic smile soon vanished and turned into questioning frown as her mother dropped the frying pan in shock and her father almost chocked on his morning coffee at the table.

" What?" she asked crossly, her arms in akimbo.

" Uh honeykins? Are you alright? You're not feeling... abnormal by any chance?" Dr. Briefs asked slowly, now wiping the coffee from around his mouth.

" Oh dear oh dear..." Bulma's mom said obviously and picked the frying pan from the floor, frowning probably the first time in her life. Despite being the richest family on the planet Mrs. Briefs still insisted on cooking for her family breakfast and dinner saying it was her duty as a mother and the hostess of the household. Bulma had never understood that and personally she couldn't even imagine touching anything coming remotely close to cleaning or cooking.

" Just please serve some breakfast, Mom..." Bulma groaned and took a seat across her still shell-shocked father. Inwardly the blue-haired teenager frowned: you'd think that a genius of such capability as Dr. Briefs would have brains so large that could handle slight 'variances' in life easily. She glanced at the kitchen clock. Only five minutes had passed since she last took a glance at the damn thing...

" Here you go, dear!" Mrs. Briefs chirped, now totally recovered and back to her original bubbly self, and placed a plate of rye bread with delicious cheese, meat and fried egg on them and a glass of milk for her. She mumbled thank you and dug hungrily into her morning meal. Another thing she had noted as the rest of the week had gone by; her usually minimal appetite had gone practically through the roof! A girl had to watch what she ate (Bulma had always disliked this part of her life) to stay fit and she had lost even few pounds during few days and guessed it to be one of the side-effects of the new-awoken power.

_If one good thing came from this damn thing it's that I can eat with no worries! _She thought and took a gulp of her milk. Or at least tried to: the white liquid was frozen solid in the glass.

" Damn!" she cursed, drawing both her parents' attention to her. And to her glass.

" Oh my!"

" God, what happened to the milk?" Mr. Briefs asked and fixed his glasses to stare at the frozen milk in astonishment.

Bulma had just about had enough of her new 'power'. " Well, daddy, obviously the milk is frozen. Think you'd might want to turn down the fridge a bit?" she ground out sweetly, ready to burst a vessel. She would not become a freak-show... she would not become a freak-show... she repeated in her mind, while inhaling and exhaling slowly.

" DAMN THAT SON-KUN!!" She yelled as her self-control failed her, and she banged her small fist on the table surface making her parents jump again in startle.

" Bulma hon? Are you having troubles with a boy?" her mother asked soothingly with motherly concern and Bulma gnashed her teeth together hard.

" You could say that... but I'll be going now, I need to cool down a bit!" she muttered and stood up abruptly, realizing the irony of her own words. Giving a bitter titter she took her leave. The images of the many ways how to destroy Son Goku mentally physically and socially for good flashed in her mind and she strode out of the front door mumbling to herself. The door slammed shut angrily and Mr. and Mrs.Briefs blinked for the umpteenth time that morning.

" Oh my, our daughter's finally truly in love! She has never ever called any other man that affectionately!" Mrs. Briefs gushed her blonde curls practically bouncing with her joy.

" Well, damn..." the genius doctor uttered. Miracles did happen after all and the couple resumed their usual Sunday morning routine.

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" Remind me again, Kakarotto, why in the hell I'm outta bed at fucking 8 o'clock in the Sunday morning?!" Vegeta grumbled moodily as he stood next to his brother on the empty football field, in the crispy morning air, the sun shining brightly. It was rather freaky as Vegeta stood there arms crossed in akimbo and seemed to absorb the light from the air like a shadowy cool spot in middle of Sahara.

Goku glared mildly in response. It's not like he had any choice in the matter, either. Teach the girl to control her powers and maybe even fight or watch her destroy everything around her and eventually get attacked by demons and be torn to shreds some day.

" Y'know, ya didn't have to come... ya just wanna see the girl," he retorted sharply and gave another meaningful glance at Vegeta's direction, " Besides, you're leaking the power again," he pointed out.

" Whatever..." Vegeta snorted and with highly insulted sounding sigh pulled his power back and the shadowy spot vanished. " Cut me some slack, man. That damned fight with that motherfucker Azkabal was a bit tricky and he got some good hits in... Is it my fucking fault that he almost managed to curse me with the weight of his goddamn powers, eh?"

" You could of even tried dodgin'."

" I was distracted."

" By what?"

" Shut up."

" Fine, it looks like our student is here, anyways," Goku said and nodded to a direction where a slender being dressed in white walked towards them across the field. The figure was seething with anger, her eyes shimmering dangerously and the feeling of danger she emitted had them both automatically little wary of her.

" Ya sure she the ice element? Looks more like fire to me, her gaze practically burns us even from this distance," Vegeta asked sarcastically and Goku snorted.

" She's ice, believe it bro. So cold it actually burns ya."

Bulma made it to them just then, out of breath and glaring angrily. Not even her groups' comments how she'd get wrinkles between her eye brows like that could have stopped her intense stare of hate and righteous anger at ruining her life. Her eyes scanned the smirking form of Son Goku and she momentarily blinked at what she saw. The boy was barely taller than her measly 5.4 feet and rather lanky, but the smooth and sinewy muscles his bare arms laden with took her by surprise. Dressed in dirty wife beater and cargo pants and not in his normal baggy and covering clothing he looked suddenly very handsome. And familiar in strange non-sexual way, once again.

Shaking her head briefly, she glanced at the other boy standing besides Goku and if Goku's face had been familiar it was nothing compared to this handsome, scowling and mean face. The upwards swept black hair and the intense glare did funny things to her mind and body. She knew this face! Where and when she couldn't place, but somehow the first things that popped into her mind about this male was arrogance and power. And the fact that he called her woman and not by her name. Dressed similarly to Goku the only difference being that he had a strange fang hanging around his neck in leather cord and black fighting gloves. For some odd reason she didn't find the gloves to be anything out of ordinary.

" Who... who is this?" she asked from Goku, starting intently at Vegeta who only looked at her with the same damn smirk as Goku had on his lips too.

" My big brother, Ouji Vegeta. He's in the business too and guess what? He's gonna come back to school tomorrow," Goku grinned mischievously.

" Hey, I can talk just fine," Vegeta muttered to Goku angrily and glanced again at the girl in front of him. She truly was a marvel: naturally blue hair with some greenish tint to it and crystal blue eyes. Cute, preppy and definitely what you'd call a common school whore to jocks and players, deducted by the way she dressed. But still sexy as hell.

" Oh god... another person from my past life..." Bulma whined and slapped her forehead dramatically as her mind reeled and felt fuzzy as if memories long forgotten tried to push through some kind of membrane.

" Woman..." Vegeta started growling dangerously. This usually scared the impudent girls into submission but the older demon slayer was in for a surprise of his life as icy blue eyes bore into him and he felt a thrill like none other go through him.

" I HAVE TOLD YOU HUNDREDS OF TIMES ,YOU POMPOUS ASSHOLE, THAT DO NOT CALL ME WOMAN BECAUSE I HAVE A FUCKING NAME: IT'S BULMA SO USE IT, YOU PIGHEADED SAIYAJIN MALE!"

The silence that followed her echoing words was almost deafening as the trio looked at each other in shock of her outburst. Bulma looked little pale, raising an upset hand to cover her mouth. " Whoops? Did I... do that?" she asked rather nervously glancing around to make sure no one else had heard her. Neither one of them could have ever guessed that Bulma Briefs possessed such lung capacity. Every other male would be quaking in their boots and boxers, but her yelling tantrum left the boys just rather stunned.

" I just didn't do that... tell me I didn't!" she ranted and rubbed her temples with her cool fingers, frosting them over in her emotional stress.

" You truly are a bitch, woman," Vegeta smirked and made few lewd gestures with his hands and Bulma groaned again in frustration and anger. This couldn't be happening to her. No, not to her! She was Bulma Briefs, for fuck's sake! She was the leader of all cheerleaders and the undeniable Queen of the school. She was from a good rich family, she was raised proper and well, she had more friends than many ever dreamed to even hope and a boyfriend who just happened to be the star player of the school. Bulma Briefs didn't shout out randomly (like blow up on people below her), but maintained cool and proper exterior around people. Bulma Briefs was nice to everybody and everybody loved Bulma Briefs in return. Bulma Briefs was rich and as normal as a seventeen-year-old can be. She didn't have strange powers to kill demons, she didn't know the no-name riff-raffs of the school who happened to be part of her past life and more importantly she wasn't a freak show and she didn't do any heavy cursing!!

" Hey, cheer-bitch!" Vegeta's angry yell broke her from her thoughts and the blue-haired teen realized the two boys weren't near her anymore, but stood good twenty yards away from her, looking tough and determined.

" What the hell it is, you--- Oh?!" Her eyes widened and her rage died down in a second, flat. She was surrounded by ice and frost good fifteen yards of diameter. The grass was frozen solid and sharp and rocky stalactites of ice with jagged edges jutted from the ground, shimmering like diamonds in the sun light. Her breathing was vapor in the cold chill that was way under zero, yet she felt none of it and it felt almost good to be surrounded by frost and ice in the crisp coldness. Bulma was covered in frost, making her look like some ice queen from another realm altogether.

" What's the big deal here, motherfucking dammit! You almost pierced and froze us with those!" Goku shouted at her, sounding royally pissed off.

" But... but how!?" she choked back at him, nearly in tears of wonder and fear of her power.

" Just calm down! And come here and so we can teach ya so things like this won't happen. Your control of your power is tied to your emotions and at the moment: it's very unstable because ya're far from actually consciously using it. First ya need conscious control, then ya have to learn to use your magic right and then ya can start practicing different forms of it. But first calm the fuck down, girl!" Goku instructed her strictly and Bulma took deep breaths to calm her raging nerves.

Slowly she got on her feet and began walking away from the icy circle she had accidentally created, very upset of her lack of control but also horrified. If this had happened any earlier and she would have gotten her angst get to her... the teenager Queen left the thought hanging there for a second. She could have frozen many people to death in an instant. If her power was to fight demons it must be of such caliber that it could actually kill them and not just give them a pesky little flu to cuss over. She also guessed the residents of Hell would be made of lot tougher stuff than your every-day humans.

She stumbled out of the ring and fell on her knees, breathing hard.

The boys knelt too, Goku slightly concerned; Vegeta seemingly indifferent.

" Just... just shut up whatever you were gonna say and start the damn teaching... just teach me how to control this darned thing..." she almost begged them Goku and Vegeta glanced at each other and nodded in unison. It was their luck that the school's football field was quite desolate area behind the school building and not many ever wandered there expect to watch the training or games. They definitely needed a wide open and secluded place to train Bulma if things would progress at this rate.

" Hey, what are you two doing just standing there?! You better teach me control since I don't wanna kill anybody!" Bulma wailed at them suddenly and a wall of sharp ice spikes practically appeared out of thin air. The brothers ducked quickly and the deadly needles flew past their heads, grazing their wild hairs dangerously.

Bulma stared in shock at the glaring duo lying on the grass and her ice spikes melted away.

" Uh... oh... so you say at the moment my powers reacts to my feelings and emotions?" she grinned innocently, a huge sweatdrop falling down the side of her face.

" Yes! This would be some much more easier if you were a sociopath..." Vegeta mumbled and hopped on his feet.

" I think we'll have one hellova long day ahead," the younger Son brother sighed and Bulma giggled light-headedly. This was simply beginning to be too much for her take in completely, but she would prevail. Hopely.

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The sky was already purple and the last rays of sun were beginning to disappear. Long shadows were cast on the green field and Bulma hit the ground with a thud, breathing hard, gasping for precious air.

" THIS... IS...FRIGGIN' ...IMPOSSIBLE!" The blue-haired girl managed to scream between pants of exhaustion as Vegeta and Goku peered down at her curiously.

" Y'know, first people usually learn to walk before running," Goku nodded sagely to her and her teeth gritted in annoyance.

" Well, that is kinda obvious, buster!"

" What he means you haven't even began to crawl," Vegeta quipped at her and her jaw went slack. She was dirty, bruised and fatigued to brink of death and she wasn't even close beginning to crawl and in order to truly master her power she'd need to be able to run like a wind. _Oh God... I'm even thinking in cheesy metaphors..._

"... but I have to say I'm even impressed to some point, woman!" Vegeta continued, almost smiling for real, and let his eyes scan the football field or rather what was left of it. Nearly everything was frozen to some point and holes and craters lined the area; even the bleachers had suffered the consequences of Bulma's uncontrolled power.

" Well, thank you Vegeta," Bulma almost blushed and smiled timidly at him, not minding the term woman for now.

" I never would have thought in my bloody life that someone could suck this much at complete single task of simple and quiet meditation!"

" WHAT!?! YOU'RE DEAD, MAN! SO DEAD!" Bulma sprung to her feet and started chasing Vegeta, who saw it was one of those rare times when running away was the best defense available. He didn't care for the woman's wrath but the howling snow and ice storm trailing right behind her as she pursued him scared him almost as much of Azkabal's shafowy powers had. Besides the woman could use the work out: she might be a cheerleader but yet not nearly fit enough for the life of a demon hunter. Almost slipping on the icy ground Ouji Vegeta ran away from the crazed woman as Son Goku buried his face into his hands and shook his head in denial.

Just what were those two in their previous lives? A married couple? Now that was the most laughable thing ever so Goku guessed they must have been bitter arch enemies at least. It was funny how things worked out in the universe; Heaven and Hell in general. Bulma had called Vegeta something before: a saiyajin. His second surname from his mother's side was Saiyajin after all...

Bulma and Vegeta raced past in a whirl of shadows and ice, almost making him fall.

" YOU ASSHOLE, GET BACK HERE! YOU... YOU... MONKEY!!"

" ICE BITCH, ICE BITCH, YOU HEAR ME!? WOOOOMMAAAANNN!!"

" RAAGH!"

The pair began their another round around the field, leaving now quite pissed off Goku standing in middle of the chaos. " At least we know her attacking powers effective..." he grumbled sourly and frowned, glaring around the destruction. A sigh escaped his lips.

" The janitor's so not bloody hell gonna like this when he comes to work on Monday..."

And thus ended Bulma's first day of training.

For some reasons Goku and Vegeta felt quite offended that she called them monkeys. Neither could explain why, though as they left the field for home more exhausted than after a rough night of slaying regulars.

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**A/N:** Next Chapter: Enter ChiChi! (Somewhere in the future... college is tough, after all...)


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